A River Runs Through It
by puritymatters
Summary: River Song tells her story. How it all began.  Who she really is. *Spoilers through Episode 7 "A Good Man Goes To War"*
1. Chapter 1

**A River Runs Through It**

Spoilers.

They were everywhere.

It was almost nearly definitely hard (oh now I even sound like Him!) to keep my mouth shut about all the things I know about my sometimes-companions.

I knew how I came into existence. But they did not. They had no clue.

How could I ever possibly tell them that all of our destinies and timelines were intertwined into a near unrecognizable ball of string.

Thank God for my little blue book. It's my saving grace. It's really the only thing separating me from reality and the brink of insanity.

But it's come to the point where I have to get it all out, or else I'll burst. The last few months(?) has made that perfectly clear.

It all started in, well, to be honest, I'm not really sure when it started. That's the problem with time traveling - things don't always happen in chronological order. (Someday, I'll figure out how to explain that theory.) I'm not for sure when I was born. But I do know the details of how I was born. I was born out of deception. I'm a conspiracy theory, in my own right. I have a picture of my mother. Just one. But it's cherished nonetheless. It was taken just hours after I was born. Her beautiful auburn hair framed her face, as she smiled down at me. Her smile spoke volumes. You see, I was a miracle.

My conception took place in a dark, dark place. And not in the usual way. My mother was abducted by a volatile race of aliens known only as The Silence. The torture they ensued upon her was indescribable. I am thankful that she wasn't able to retain the memories of those particular moments. It could break even the strongest person. Little blessings, that. You see...my mother was impregnated by these aliens. Not by their own. No. They didn't want to taint their race with ours. No, they impregnated her with my father's DNA. A good man. And the DNA of a Time Lord. Not His DNA, because that would just be sick and wrong in so many ways. No, it was the DNA of Another. My DNA is a three-fold, compressed mess of my mother, my father, and Time itself.

I am part Time-Lord. I retain the memories of both my mother and father, and bits and pieces of the TARDIS. It's almost ironic really. I am the genetic offspring of His most Beloved.

It wasn't long after I was born, though, that I was quite literally ripped from my mother's arms into a timeline so messed up by The Silence.

I was "raised", if you could even call it that, in a dirty rundown orphanage on the outskirts of Washington D.C. I call it Hell's Nursery. Because, that's what it was. I think it was the 1960s, but that particular time is a little blurry to me. The Silence took pleasure in putting me through rigorous tests, and experiments. Nothing that I couldn't recover from, thanks to the regeneration process from my Time-DNA. Sometimes I wonder if it would have been better if I never regenerated. To actually die and be at peace. But, it doesn't do any good to dwell on that possibility.

I think the most excruciating, and traumatizing experiment they put me through was the spacesuit. It was painful. It was scary. I was a monster. The things I did…were indescribably…horrible. I killed so many people. I "killed" really a good man. I remember all those things. Those things I'll never be able to wipe from my memory.

But then I escaped. I was seven years old, I believe. I escaped. But my body was dying as a result of a fluke accident. But then I regenerated into who I am today. The regeneration process is rather fascinating. It changes everything about who you were, except your memories, and makes you into a brand new creation. New face, new skin, new hair, new eyes, even an accent. I can't explain that. It's all that Time-Lord-Sciencey stuff.

I was on the run at such an early age. Really young. Really impressionable.

But the most amazing man ever saved me. I was rescued by… Him.


	2. Chapter 2: I'll Be Seeing You

Chapter 2

"I'll Be Seeing You In All The Old Familiar Places"

Have you ever went to sleep in one place and woken up in another? Have you ever died in one reality and were reborn in another? I've experienced both those marvels. It wasn't until years later, when I was older, wiser, that I put all that together to make some sense. But the day that happened will forever seem like yesterday, emblazoned in my memory.

I felt the rain pelting the sensitive skin on my face. I could hear faint sounds of water making contact with metal roofs. And was that music playing in the distance?

I rolled over onto my side and willed my eyes open. They were so heavy. I felt so sleepy. If I could just curl up here for a little bit longer…

But that decision was taken out of my hands when a loud, blaring noise pierced the air overhead. I jerked up clutching my head as the beating inside competed with the blaring outside. Then there were explosions, and an artificial light filled the darkness.

I rolled over onto my knees – something hard and sharp was digging into my skin. Not sure how I managed it, I made my way to my feet, swaying from dizziness either from the sick feeling roiling in my stomach or the shaking of the ground from more explosions.

I was no longer in the alleyway where I had died. For that matter, I was no longer dead. I inspected my hands, turning them every which way, noticing they were different than just a few hours ago (was it just hours? Or days?), as were my arms and legs, which were millimeters longer than my dress now.

I was shaken out of my reverie by more explosions. I ran for cover as a nearby building was rocked by the enormity of the blast.

Once safely inside a (hopefully) sound structure, I set about recomposing myself.

I knew I was different. I've known for a long time. It was quite a weight for little girl to hold on her shoulders. But I've not been a little girl for a long time. Not really.

I wound my way into a building that turned out to be a newspaper office, complete with printing presses and big wooden desks with typewriters adorning their surfaces. After rifling through several desk drawers I came across a first aid kit. Pulling out a bottle of antiseptic and some bandages I assessed my injuries. Of which I had none. How…?

It was a fascinating phenomenon, to die. To die is to be set free from an old, decaying body, and to take hold of a new one.

So I had a new body. Without any wounds. If my hands and arms and legs were different, that meant everything else was different.

I searched the office for a mirror, or any reflective surface for that matter. Finally, I discovered one in a utility closet, dirty from infrequent use. Bandages still in hand, I wiped away the grimy surface.

The single flickering light bulb above me only added to my nervousness at what I might find when I looked up. I closed my eyes and forced myself to count to three.

When I finally looked up and caught sight of my reflection, my new self – my breath caught.

Not only did I look completely different in every way, but I had aged by quite a few years. Gone was the awkward little girl, and in her place was a beautiful, albeit filthy, young lady.

I watched as my hands roamed my face – pressing, poking and pulling my skin to make sure it was real. Even in the faint light I could see that gone was the pale white skin, and in its place creamy beige. My eyes had shifted from a bright blue to a light, obscure greenish-grey. But the hair! No more simple, straight blonde locks. A mess of crazy strawberry blonde curls shot out from every direction from my still pounding head. If it wasn't for the reflection mimicking every move I made, and the grungy and now-too-small frock, I would have sworn that it was a stranger staring back at me. And yet it was.

The revelation of the past hours/days (if only I knew how much time had passed!) was starting to set in and take its toll on me. And I was famished. My stomach lurched in protest at not eating anything for a considerable time.

Risking the explosions that I had just sought safe haven from, I carefully journeyed back outside to search for food. Making my way along a dark, wet alleyway, similar, yet very different from the one I'd been in earlier, I kept my eyes open for any dangers or threats.

The part of the city, wherever I was, was deserted. I was hesitant to journey much further away from my alleyway, but knew that if I ever hoped to find something to eat, let alone someone to help me, I'd have to step out in faith.

As I neared the corner of a building, another explosion went off above me and I fell back hard against a brick wall covering my head with my arms. This explosion felt so much closer than the other ones as a gust of wind and rubbish swirled around me, my arms being assaulted by little bits of rock and brick.

As the howling ended and I felt it was safe enough to continue, I let my arms fall back down to my sides and assessed what could be around the corner of the building.

The hair on the back of my neck stood on end as a warm breeze caressed my neck. Only it wasn't a breeze. It was a breath escaping someone's mouth. Someone standing directly behind me.

Instinct and training kicked in, and whirling around I kicked a pair of legs, and punched low in an abdomen knocking the wind from my assailant. Taking the advantage of his distraction and immediate disablement, I grabbed hold of his arms and anchored my body against his, and flipped him over me and onto the hard, wet ground.

Without missing a beat, I landed hard on his middle, my knees digging into his abdomen; my elbow near crushing his windpipe.

A flash of light overhead from another explosion in the distance cast an eerie glow on a pair of startled eyes that stared up at me from under a floppy mop of hair.

Through gasps he spoke, "I'd know that curly head anywhere, River Song!"

His exclamation and declaration of my identity shocked me, and that brief flicker of time caused my defenses to fall, allowing him to take hold of my wrists in a firm, but not hurtful, grasp.

Not sure how he accomplished it, he to pulled his body out from under mine until he was crouching in front of me, my wrists still in his possession.

"Who…who are you?" I croaked, not used to my new voice.

"I'm the Doctor. I'm here to save you, River Song."


End file.
